


As the dust settles

by almost_certain



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Ayato is a loveable yet psycho dork basically, Character Death, Character studies, Coffee Shops, Drama & Romance, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, First Love, Ghouls, Healing Sex, Loss of Innocence, Multiple Pairings, Post-Canon, Re:, Reunion Sex, Sibling Bonding, Spoilers, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tokyo Ghoul: re, Touken, Tragic Romance, Trust Issues, ayahina, mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almost_certain/pseuds/almost_certain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayato's got Hinami back, but he never really thought about what he'd have to do next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As the dust settles

He checks the street again from the fully exposed window of Re:. 'There's no one looking for us,'  the half ghoul says again. 'There's no one left.'

There are only a few lights on but the orange glow spills in through the glass and he can see the calm on the older ghoul's face as he pours the coffee beans in to grind them. They're all a state but Kaneki - if he is Kaneki now after the time he's been one of them - looks by far the worst. His hands are all there but he's padding around on unsteady feet, his limbs barely regrown. He'd watched his sister offer him food, and over Hinami's shoulder he'd seen the reluctant acceptance of it. There was pain in his expression when he'd choked it down and Ayato hadn't missed that either for all everyone thought him insensitive, but at least he had eaten in the end.

Not that he cared for the white haired ass hole in the slightest. Quite the opposite in fact. Ayato hated him, hated everything he seemed to embody, those human sensibilities, that naïve attitude towards what they were. How could he still be conflicted after everything he'd seen?

The coffees are placed in a row on the counter, and Banjou, who has been sitting there with his chin resting on his fists reaches out for one. After a sip he says 'well you sure remembered how to make a good cup of coffee.' Kaneki only smiles and pours another.

Ayato thinks he catches movement far down the street, but it's only a piece of paper being blown about by the breeze. Tokyo is still apart from that piece of paper.

'Ayato.' Banjou turns on the stool to offer a neutral smile. 'Try it.' He gestures to the coffees with a little nod of the head. Banjou at the very least never patronises him.

'She's safe.' The one eyed bastard sighs when he only turns back to the street. 'No one will come for us tonight.'

It's like a dream. The CCG, the monster under the bed since he was old enough to walk, gone. Probably not gone for good but gone for now, gone to ruin in the space of a night. He watches the piece of paper lift from the floor and dance around before crashing back in to the gutter. The coffee is good and he hates him a little more. Hinami always made good coffee, always seemed to care about it. Maybe he'd learn at some point but realistically he knew they'd keep him sweeping in the alleyway, or

The door to upstairs opens and out struts his sister, clean and still damp with a towel draped around her neck. She takes her coffee and heads to the spot at the window. The bastard says nothing to her.

'I'm sorry about Yomo.' Banjou breaks the silence when none of them had thought to. 'I'm sorry there was nothing I could do.'

Touka smiles and turns back, her pale hair glowing orange in the street light. She crosses the space to lay a reassuring hand on Banjou's arm.

He can hear Hinami's footsteps upstairs, she's been walking around for a while now but she hasn't come near the stairs.

'Why don't you take her a cup?' His sister asks, and it takes him more than a few seconds to work out she's talking to him.

He thinks about snapping a retort or pretending he doesn't want to. Tries to remember the face he would wear when Tatara would ask him how he felt about her, when he'd have to pretend she was beneath him. There were times when he had been so good at it he had almost thought it the truth. It had been a lot of effort in the end to keep up the façade that it suited him, he belonged and he'd prefer it if she fuck off where she came from and leave him be. She hadn't been fooled from day one though.

'...Ayato?' Kaneki finishes saying something in his eerily soft and flat tone.

'Hm?' He jolted.

The older ghoul only smiles. 'Have you spoken to her since we came back?'

The mood in the café lifts slightly with the warmth of his voice, and in the corner of his eye he can see Banjou struggling to keep a smile from his lips. 'No.' He runs a hand over his hair. There's still blood in it. 'I haven't said anything to her since we got back.'

'Go and see her.' Banjou nudges him with his elbow. It hurts far more than it should.

He grunts, leaning further onto the bench as if to cement himself. 'Why should I? If she wants to speak to me she can come down here.'

'Oi.' Touka hushes him. 'Don't be an asshole. If she wants to be alone leave her be.'

'I am letting her be.' He taps at the side of his coffee cup. 'What's she doing up there anyway?'

'At least take her the coffee Ayato.' Banjou shakes his head and reaches for his own cup.

'Fine.' He slams his hands down on the table. 'I'll take it.'

From the other side of the door he hears Touka ask if Kaneki remembered everything, or just how to make shitty coffee. Upstairs her footsteps start again, and before he can reach the employee lounge door she's standing there in fresh clothes, her hair still wet around her shoulders. He can feel the blood soaked hair tickle the nape of his neck, and the layer of grime and smoke that has settled on his own skin. She takes a step back to let him pass, and he could smell the soap and the shampoo smells, the artificial honey smell if he could ever smell honey. 'Here.'

'Thank you.' She smiles. Her fingers barely brush his as she takes the cup. 'It smells good.'

'It is.' He says, and if he wasn't so drained his cheeks may have lit up at the thought of how simple he sounded. She's still standing there, looking at him innocently enough with a warm smile on her face but he can't think with it all. The reality of the weeks without her, of how much he'd thought about seeing her again. 'You look the same.'

'Hah.' She shakes her head and turns to the couch where she sits down gracefully at the farthest end. 'That's a relief.'

He sighs before sitting down on the other side of the couch, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. 'I was worried we would be too late.'

'I was too.' She laughs, and it sounds soft and light and nothing like he feels next to her. 'I didn't think you could make it a second time.'

'You must have known we would.' He rests his chin on his fists, and she puts her hand on the curve of his spine. The contact freezes him in place, the warmth from her palm seeping through his vest, rushing through every bone and muscle. She puts her coffee on the table and turns towards him, her heartbeat fluttering loudly in the silence.

'Ayato,' her lips brush warm and soft against his dirty cheek. 'Thank you.'

He's angry for some reason, all the blood rushes to his ears and he can hear it pumping through him. 'Why?' He tries not to sound bitter. 'I couldn't save you.'

'You rescued me.' She rests her head against his shoulder. 'That's why.'

His eyes sting. He hasn't slept in two days and he feels as if he'd made of lead. 'Hina...' He sits up to look at her, his eyes blurry as he does. She's swaddled in a too big sweater, her legs thin and pale. His hand comes to rest just above her knee before he can think. Her mouth only pops open in to a soft 'o'. When he kisses her she sighs, her palms pushing against the bruises and breaks of his shoulders. Then she loops her fingers around his neck and holds him there. The weight in his stomach drops as his free hand sinks in to the flesh of her waist. He pulls her against him and she hesitates at first but then she's pressed awkwardly against his hip, her thigh draped across his lap. His hand drifts around to graze up the soft skin of her inner thigh until it dances around the lace hem of her pants. Another night he might have stopped there, might have retreated as soon as she showed any sign of resistance, but he can't even entertain the thought now.

They aren't so much kissing now as they are breathing against each other, and he opens his eyes to watch hers. Her fingers tighten their grip on his shoulders but she only huffs and pulls him closer. His fingers brush across the soft cotton and her eyes drift closed. He kisses her again as he moves his hand slowly over her, her grip on him relaxes as she pants against him.

He's surprised when she pulls back, catching him at the wrist and pulling his hand away from her. He's out of breath too, his heart pounding in his chest. Without a word she stands and heads to the hallway, stopping to glance back at him. She offers her hand and for the longest moment he only sits there dazed and unblinking. She steps back towards him, still offering her hand, and once it's just close enough he takes it and lets her pull him on to his aching legs. She leads him, still looking up through her lashes with her honey brown eyes, towards the farthest door on the left, opening it clumsily behind her before pulling him inside.

It's dark, at first he can't see a thing as the door swings closed behind him. They stand there, hearts pounding out of synch until he can just make out the shape of her nose, the curve of her lips as she waits. She blinks and he kisses her again, hands clinging to the small of her back as she tries to pull him backwards on to the bed that had been made up for him these last few days. He lets her pull off his vest, hears it thud against the cold wooden floor. Her hands roam over the tight muscles of his back as his hands begin to pull at the jumper until she raises her arms and lets him slip it over her head. This time when they kiss he can feel the warm swell of her chest against his own, and the steady rhythm of her heart beating through them both. His hands take hold of her hips, then her ass as he lifts her until she's wrapped around him, her kisses desperate. He crawls on to the bed careful not to crush her as he lowers her down.

He kisses down her jaw, down her neck until his lips are trailing the slope of her breasts, his hand finds its way between her legs again and she covers her mouth with one hand while burying the other in the duvet. He pushes the cotton and lace aside but it isn't enough so he moves down and hooks his fingers through the waistband, yanking the material down with a tear. She jolts as he kisses her just below the belly button, unhooking her pants from her left foot.

She can barely breath as she feels his breath travel up and over the skin of her knees before he presses a kiss to one, then the other. His hands are rough against her, she can feel the muscles of his arms as he slips them under her knees. His hands grip her hips and pull her to him and she's not breathing at all. She's lost to the flurry from his lips and tongue, she whines his name and other such soft sounds but he can't hear it. His fingers dig in to the skin of her hips, curving around to squeeze hard on the flesh of her ass. She squeaks and her fingers thread in to the dark mess of hair but he doesn't stop until she yanks his head back in no uncertain terms and he looks up to find her practically growling at him, her teeth fully bared.

'Fuck.' He lets go of her, his hands moving to hover just an inch in front of her own. 'Hina...' He's not sure what to do, whether he should apologise for her current state, or for the bruises he knows he's left. She'd enjoyed it hadn't she? Truth be told he couldn't tell, he'd been so taken with what he was finally doing he'd just assumed she'd be fine.

Her heart slows and her fingers finally entangle his. With one hand she reaches to smooth his hair back from his face, and he flinches when he realises he hasn't wiped his mouth. She leans towards him and he can barely think as she presses her lips to his softly. 'Please.' She repeats and he realises she's asked for something, though he can't for a moment imagine what it might be. She kisses him again and he feels it finally, the hot spill of tears over his cheek, and they're his and not hers, he knows it for a fact. There's a voice in the back of his mind laughing at him but it's quickly drown out by the sound of Hinami tugging at his belt, trying to push his skin tights down his thighs. He doesn't need her to pull him to her but she does anyway, and when she reaches down to take him in her hand he almost comes right there.

He doesn't think he'll hurt her given the way she's pulling him toward her with her nails in his ass cheek. He's wrong, she lets her head fall back as she cries out, her legs tightening around his hips so he can't pull back. She rests for a moment, one hand coming up to cover her eyes while the other gently slides up the muscles of his arm. 'Okay,' she nods. 'Okay, Ayato.'

He tries to kiss her, drags his lips across hers and then settles his face in the crook of her neck. He concentrates on moving, on feeling her around him. She says his name over and over, breathes it in his ear until he can't remember much else. It's not quick, and they're both throwing themselves together with little thought to caution. She takes his head in her hands and guides his lips back to her own, her teeth pulling on his lower lip until he hisses a litany of swear words against her lips, his movements slowing in to jerky, desperate thrusts. Beneath him she stills, hands still clinging on to his back while her lips press heavy against his collar bone.

He doesn't want to pull out straight away but they've been still for quite some time by the time she finally lets her head drop back against the pillow. He pulls out, drops a kiss to her shoulder, then falls to the side to look up in to the darkness. He doesn't say anything, but she moves to slip herself under his arm anyway, her hair tickling the cooling skin of his chest.

'I thought about you.' She traces her finger across his chest. 'I thought about you so much.'

'Hina.' He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and hears her hum against him. 'I thought about nothing but you.'

She huffs a soft little laugh and wraps an arm around him, holding him to her.

'I should take a shower.' He runs his hand through his hair again, the smell of blood and smoke so strong now the smell of her had faded.

'You should.' She murmurs.

Its well after dawn when he finally opens his eyes to find her still in his arms, the bed sheet covering them both from the waist down. She stirs beside him but doesn't wake, her lips curving in to a ghost of a smile. He thinks about getting up, going to scrub away the night before, but he can't remember the last time he had felt this level of comfort, can't even begin to imagine getting to feel it again. He closes his eyes. They don't wake up again until the sky's a dark deep blue and Touka or Kaneki have been in to leave them a pile of fresh clothes.


End file.
